


Digging for Gold

by Ytteb



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 14:52:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6758593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ytteb/pseuds/Ytteb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony broods (angstily) on his relationship with Gibbs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Digging for Gold

Tony DiNozzo gasped as he reached the top of the steep slope. He placed his hands on his knees and put his head down as he tried to catch his breath. He coughed a couple of times and felt himself beginning to spiral down into a coughing fit; he forced himself to breathe deeply and slowly, not to panic and after a few moments his respiration returned to normal. He eased himself upright and shook his head at the foolishness of running too hard on a foggy DC winter's evening. Tony decided to cut his run short and jogged gently home.

As he let himself into his apartment, Tony tried to catch hold of the fleeting memory the coughing spate had revived. He went into his bedroom, sat down on the bed and thought. Oddly the elusive memory was a comforting one: he had other memories which caused his stomach to lurch in revulsion or fear but this was different, this was almost a happy memory. Then it came to him. The coughing jag had transported him back to when he had the plague. He remember lying in the hospital bed, struggling for air and Gibbs had swept in and told him that he would not die. And Tony hadn't.

The story had gone round NCIS and Bethesda like wildfire. The irresistible force of Gibbs had met the immovable object of genetically modified Y-pestis and the irresistible force had prevailed. It was generally held that DiNozzo had simply dared not die; that the obedient agent who lurked under the careless exterior had followed orders. Tony had a different opinion, not that anyone asked him as they preferred their own mythology. The reason Tony hadn't died was because he  _believed_  Gibbs. When Gibbs had told him that he wouldn't die, Tony assumed that Gibbs knew something he didn't; assumed that Gibbs had the inside track, the key information, the clue that cracked the case which meant that he wasn't going to die. Tony might have felt like crap but Gibbs knew better, Gibbs knew that Tony wouldn't die and, of course, Gibbs was right.

Gibbs' instruction was like a gleam of gold in Tony's relationship with his Boss. It was something that proved to Tony that Gibbs was a person to follow. Tony was always slightly embarrassed when he realised the other reason why his stay in Bethesda was, weirdly, a happy memory. Tony wasn't sure that he had ever felt as cared for as during those few days. While, intellectually, he knew that Dr Pitt and Nurse Emma had cared for him because it was their job he felt there was something more. Brad had talked to him about college sport and Emma had held his hand and mopped his brow and he had felt important and valued. And then there was Kate. Tony wasn't sure why she felt the need to show she cared by lying to him and nagging him about movies but he realised that that was Kate's way and he was used to making the best of things. So, all in all, Bethesda and plague had given Tony a rare glimpse of what it was to be cherished.

The warmth of the memory lasted Tony through a hot shower and until he was sitting on his couch with a glass of Scotch in front of him. Tony realised that 'good Gibbs memories' had slipped to the back of his mind recently; perhaps it was time to revive them.

Tony had followed Gibbs to DC because he sensed that this was a no-nonsense person who wanted to get things done and who seemed incorruptible.  _Cleanness_  was something which Tony had come to value. He had recognised Gibbs as a powerful character but he didn't expect him to become his mentor and leader in such a strong way. Tony knew he was a good agent and he didn't make many mistakes on the job but, over the years, he began to believe that Gibbs was never wrong, that Gibbs knew better than Tony about everything. But, also Tony believed, it was not one way. Gibbs trusted Tony and never doubted him.

Tony smiled as he remembered the case from Gibbs' hiatus when, briefly, it had seemed that Tony would face yet another murder charge. Tony treasured Gibbs' words, ' _you don't need an alibi with me.'_  With no evidence collected, Gibbs had absolute faith that Tony was innocent. Tony wasn't used to unequivocal support and he was grateful to Gibbs.

Still collecting golden moments, Tony remembered being with Paula and searching for the way the terrorists had been able to kill her team. Jenny had told him that, in the face of the divergent views of Abby and Ducky, Gibbs had been confident that it would be DiNozzo who found the way to square the circle. Gibbs who trusted in his odd abilities and who had been right to trust them. Gibbs who understood him and valued him.

And off the job, Gibbs had known what he needed. When Senior had popped back into his life for the first time, Gibbs had got the story of hotel bills paid and airplane tickets bought out of his agent in thirty seconds flat. Not only that, he had understood why Tony did it and did not criticize him. Gibbs had stood, or sat, shoulder to shoulder with him and shared a beer with him. It was the non-judgmental welcome that had Tony had needed. It had been the same after Tony had crazily fallen for Dana Hutton when her navy brother had been murdered, when his obsession with her had ended in yet more tragedy when she died: he had made his way to Gibbs' basement and found comfort and understanding. Gibbs didn't tell him he'd been stupid, that he shouldn't have got involved, that he should have maintained his professional distance. No, Gibbs had poured him a jar of bourbon and listened sympathetically. The gold vein was going strong.

When Tony and Tim went on their crazy mission to Somalia, Tony hadn't hesitated to put their lives into Gibbs' hands. They had put their heads into the mouth of the lion and relied on Gibbs to rescue them and, pitch perfect, he had delivered. Tony wasn't sure how many people he would have trusted to that degree but, once again, his faith and trust had been rewarded.

So, on that misty DC evening, Tony knew that he had much to be grateful to Gibbs for. He knew that in his strange, oblique way, Gibbs had shown Tony that he had value and was worth caring about: sadly that was something that had been lacking in Tony's life. Tony hadn't expected to find a hero when he moved from Baltimore, hadn't expected to find a role model or a substitute father and perhaps he hadn't found any of those but he had found someone worth following, someone worth hitching his star to. So, why, Tony wondered, had it gone wrong?

Did the shine begin to wear off when Tony and the team found out about Gibbs' hidden life? Gibbs who professed to hate deceit which he said corroded team trust was discovered to have suffered a tragic loss which he had never spoken about. Was that when it started to go wrong? Perhaps, although Tony couldn't imagine how Gibbs had survived the tragedy and had been ready to forgive.

Was it when Mike Franks turned up? Not because Franks had knocked Tony out in the course of his vendetta but because he suspected that Gibbs had colluded with Franks' execution of his enemies – that was hard to swallow. Was it when Gibbs kept him in the dark about Domino? Perhaps. Was it when they realised that Gibbs had executed his family's murderer? Was it when rumours began to circulate about Gibbs' missions with Jenny Shepard when they had carried out assassinations? Perhaps. Was it when Gibbs pulled strings to prevent his former mother in law being brought to book for murder? Perhaps it was one of those or a combination of all of them that somehow blurred Tony's image of Gibbs, made him begin to fear that he had placed his trust in the wrong person.

Tony took a sip of his drink and tried to decide. The habit of believing in Gibbs was strong and not easily discarded and he told himself that he had much for which to be grateful to Gibbs. There was a large part of him which still wanted to follow Gibbs. If the call came now, Tony would not hesitate. His weapon would be strapped on and he would be out the door without a second thought. The problem was that he didn't think the call would come.

Tony drank again and faced up to the problem. He was ready to follow, he was still ready to lay aside his doubts but Gibbs seemed to have had enough of Tony. Tony had been a star college athlete, been pretty much irresistible to women in his day and he knew he was a good agent but, deep within his psyche, lurked the fear that he wasn't good enough. In the end, everyone discovered that he was damaged goods, not good enough, not worth the effort. It had all begun with a neglectful father and continued from there: it was only by being the best football player, the best lover, the best federal agent that he could hope to find a place in the world. And now, it seemed that Gibbs, the arch investigator, the all-seeing genius, had realised that DiNozzo wasn't good enough.

Another gulp of whisky didn't fill the sudden gaping hole that had opened up inside Tony and he felt a deadly chill sweep over him. His eyes swivelled to his gun safe and he thought of the weapon that nestled there with its siren call of oblivion, of peace and an end to struggle. The habit of accepting Gibbs' valuation pulled at him; Gibbs was always right so if he no longer thought Tony worth anything then he might as well give up. Tony stood up with the half-formed intent of getting his gun but found himself falling back under the influence of the alcohol. He swore in frustration that he couldn't even stand up without failing. Tony glared at the half empty glass and raised his hand to throw it to the ground in anger.

As he lifted the tumbler it caught the light and it occurred to Tony that it had its own beauty. The cut glass cast colourful patterns and the Scotch gleamed in a kindly way. There might be a moment of satisfaction in destroying the glass but it would be a waste, it would be pointless.

Tony remembered that, unlike Gibbs, he liked whisky and he considered that perhaps that wasn’t a bad thing. Gibbs preferred to use mason jars to drink from but Tony liked to use proper glasses and perhaps that was OK too.

Tony took another sip of his drink and, as he did so, reflected on the differences between him and Gibbs. The movies which Tony enjoyed – and which had proved useful in solving crimes. The camp fires when Tony had led the team – and which had worked well.

And then he thought back to other things which had happened.  When he had been trapped with Jeffrey White and had prevailed: it was true that Gibbs had found him but Tony had already saved himself. He remembered when he had rescued Gibbs and Maddie: that had been good and worthwhile, something to be proud of. As Tony sat lost in thought he began to consider the possibility that he was of value and that he didn't deserve to be excluded by Gibbs. He began to think that perhaps Gibbs could be wrong and was wrong when he had started to shun Tony.

Gibbs had been integral to Tony's life for a long time. He had been the person who trusted and valued Tony, he had been like a vein of gold in Tony's life but now Tony recognised that the vein of gold was exhausted. There was nothing more to mine and Gibbs had nothing more to offer; nothing more to suggest that he thought Tony was of any value.

Tony realised that he had tried to be the agent that Gibbs wanted and for a long time he had tried to twist himself into the likeness of Gibbs. Increasingly, however, Tony realised that he could not turn himself into Gibbs. More shockingly, Tony realised that he no longer wanted to make Gibbs his model. It was time for him to step out of Gibbs' shadow and be himself. The investigator in Tony suddenly dared to hope that the real DiNozzo could, and would, be someone to make a difference.

With a shock, Tony realised that he had brooded all night and that dawn was breaking. New light was flooding into his apartment and he felt hope beginning to stir. It was time to move on, to find a new way forward. To be himself, even if he wasn't sure what that would look like. Tony raised his glass as he vowed to find his own way. It was time to be grateful for the past and open to the future. He smiled as he began another day.

 


End file.
